


The One With The Infertility

by cecilia095



Category: New Girl
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Infertility, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilia095/pseuds/cecilia095
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I kind of just want this to happen already. It's taking longer for me to impregnate her than it took Kanye to impregnate Kim, and we have to beat Kimye."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Infertility

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so this is a rewrite of a fic you may or may not have read (probably not, I wasn't exactly known on Ao3 nor did I leave the fic up long), but I've been itching to write some Cece/Schmidt lately and thought... "Why not revise one of my old stories instead?" so I did because the old, unrevised version was cringe-worthy and I'm so much better now than I was a year ago when I first wrote this so. Have this. Enjoy it.
> 
> (I know I know, Schmidt/Cece is not my usual but I love them a lot too and wanted somewhere, some story to put all of that love into.)

"We've done it all over the loft. Like,  _all over_."

"Oh God, Cece, no! You guys have your own place now."

"Schmidt says his sperm isn't traveling fast enough there."

—

"Don't you want to be an uncle, Nicholas?" Schmidt pleas, and Nick kind of just rolls his eyes and bites into his sandwich - extra bologna, extra cheese, and Schmidt gags because how can one person possess such terrible taste in food.

(Whatever. Nick's not in charge of lunchtime when he babysits.  _Ever_.)

"You're not my brother, man," Nick says in response to Schmidt's question, a mouthful of distasteful deli meats.

"I'll ask my question again: Don't you want to be an uncle, Nicholas?"

"Ugh. Fine, but I know more than anything that if I walk in on you and Cece in my shower at ten o'clock at night again I'm gonna kill you both!"

"Ten o'clock is the best time for conceiving!"

"So do it in your own apartment!"

Schmidt sighs, but like he actually means it, so Nick takes a second to set down his sandwich, bringing a hand up to Schmidt's shoulder. "It'll happen when it happens, man," he advises. "You've only been trying for three months."

"Three months too long," Schmidt replies with an eye roll. "I have tadpoles, Nicholas,  _tadpoles_. No matter how many times I let 'em swim around in Cece's pond, - three, four times a day, just... swimming up in that sweet, sweet sea water, they just..."

"Okay, too much Schmidty, too much!"

"I kind of just want this to happen already. It's taking longer for me to impregnate her than it took Kanye to impregnate Kim, and we  _have_ to beat Kimye."

"Get out of my apartment, man, just..."

"Too much?"

"Absolutely."

—

Cece's tearing up on the couch when he gets home from work, and he'd be sadder for her if it weren't the fifth time this month he's walked into it.

He doesn't even have to look at it to know what she's holding is a negative pregnancy test, but he does anyway, and then he swipes it out of her grip without even looking at it. He tosses it onto the coffee table and wordlessly takes her into his arms, standing her up off of the couch and leading her into their bedroom.

"Gross. You just touched my pee," she points out, but she's kind of laughing at him a little bit.

"You know, up until a second ago, I forgot that that's what goes on pregnancy tests. I want to upchuck right now, Cece, I do."

She takes a hand up and wipes underneath her eyes, and she sighs when Schmidt nonchalantly kisses her forehead. "Is it stupid to keep trying? It's stupid."

"Yeah, maybe it's a little stupid, but you're  _Cece_ ," he says as if that means something.

"Look, if we can't, then we... we can adopt," he suggests.

 _That's_ quickly shot down by his wife's pouting lips and the drop of her head, and he knows she wants a baby who is half-Schmidt and half-Cece and so does he, obviously, but it's been months and  _nothing_.

Before that it was years of casual sex with only one almost-pregnancy - (and they forgot the condoms like,  _a lot_ ) - and somehow, even though he'll never tell Cece out loud, Schmidt thinks if she were able to get pregnant she would've already.

But she hasn't.

—

"Watching you guys try so hard for a baby makes me want one," Jess starts.

Cece rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Have one for me at this point. You're fertile as hell."

"If only I had a generous sperm donor," she says, wiggling her eyebrows at her two roommates.

Winston wiggles his eyebrows back but Nick just grunts, and Cece wants to say something about how quick Nick would take Jess up on an offer to make a baby, but she keeps quiet and remembers her own fertility problems. 

She sighs a bunch of times and starts playing with the teabag in her mug until Jess asks her what's wrong.

"Ceec, why don't you do another one of those, 'How-Many-Eggs-Does-My-Basket-Have-Left' tests?"

Cece shakes her head and sets down her mug. "Ha. To find out I'm completely barren?"

She wishes three people weren't shooting sympathy eyes in her direction, but they are, all three of them sort of pouting at her inability to conceive a child. Great.

"Maybe Schmidt's right; maybe we should adopt."

"Chandler and Monica did it!" Nick says pointedly, and Jess hits him on the arm. "What? They did and they got  _two_ babies and neither of them had to do any work. Aren't you tired from all the... doing it?" Another hit from Jess.

But Cece laughs a little. "You know what? Kind of. I think I'm even sort of wearing Schmidt out, and he could go for just...  _days_."

"Oh, we know, we used to live with both of you," Winston remarks, his nose scrunched in disgust. Jess hits him on the arm, too.

"I don't want to adopt though," Cece adds sadly after a few seconds of silence, and Jess and Nick and Winston nod seriously, understandingly. "I  _want_ to do the work."

—

Cece insists to Jess that she's okay, but Jess knows she isn't, and Jess is a damn good friend.

They end up in Sadie's office first thing Monday morning after Cece spent all of Sunday brunch sulking into her eggs and toast. She sulks some more on Monday, but only because she already knows what the results are going to be without even having to take the stupid test -  _again_.

But then this happens: "You still have eggs, Cece," Sadie tells her. "Just... not as many as you should. But that's okay."

Cece's eyes get wide, and she tugs down on her lip, looking back and forth between her best friend and her gynecologist. "Because I'm fertile? Am I fertile?"

Jess gives Cece's hand a squeeze and smiles before Sadie says, "Yes. You're fertile. Don't stop trying, okay?"

—

"Pinterest says I need to 'Set The Stage for Super Sperm'," Schmidt says. "It worked for Kanye."

He's hovering over Cece, and she's eagerly reaching for the zipper of his jeans from underneath him. (Missionary is  _the_ position for baby-making, okay?)

"I'm fertile, honey," she says with a little bit of relief, and Schmidt stops kissing her neck for a second to crack a smile. "No, like, okay, I'm not as fertile as other thirty-three-year-olds, but I'm fertile. Sadie says we just have to keep trying."

"Sadie? The Va-genius?"

"Mmm, that one."

They go four times that night and Cece's passed out on top of Schmidt when they're done, but he's wide awake because he's super sure that fourth time just made a baby.

—

"I'm a week late," Cece says with a lot more happiness than she would've years ago - back to a time when Schmidt wasn't her husband but someone she was afraid to be seen at  _brunch_ with and a baby was dead last on her bucket list. 

Jess pops champagne and pours some in every glass but Cece's. "This is definitely it!" she says with excitement as the five friends clink their champagne - and their sparkling apple cider - glasses.

—

Two days later, Cece shows up at the loft and pouts, just holding her arms open for Jess.

"Ceec, what's wrong, is it the Baby Hormones?"

"You should've given me champagne that night, Jess. I took a test. I'm not pregnant."

—

Schmidt gives up on Pinterest, and 'Setting The Stage For Super Sperm', and he stops trying to beat Kanye, too. He spends a lot of the next few days Googling adoption instead - agencies, prices, how to get your stubborn stubborn wife on board.

Cece climbs into his lap late one night as he's scrolling on his laptop in the living room, and she gets a quick look at the screen before nodding her head.

Schmidt huffs. "Look, Cece, I know this isn't what you want, but..."

"We should do it," she says easily, and he raises an eyebrow at her, but she says, "No, Schmidt, we should do it."

"Are you sure, Ceec? Because if that's not what you want then we... Well... We can't send the kid back. No matter how many times Winston insists adoption agencies have a thirty-day return policy, they don't, I checked."

She laughs and buries her face in his neck. "Yeah, Schmidt, I'm sure."

He calls an agency when they wake up next morning and before they both know it, they have a meeting with an adoption caseworker that Tuesday.

—

Cece's stomach turns as she explains to Jess and Nick everything that's going on, and even though the two of them are overly encouraging about this whole adoption thing, she excuses herself, races to their bathroom, and throws up right into their urinal.

Jess follows after her, and she widens her eyes as Cece wipes her mouth. "Cece? If you don't want to talk about it anymore, we don't have to talk about it anymore."

In-between tears and swiping at her mouth, she cries a little bit, and Jess finds her way to Cece's side and throws an arm around her lovingly, smooching her shoulder.

"We'll still love that baby, you know. Even if it isn't coming out of your vagina."

Cece wrinkles her nose at that, and Jess tells her to hang on as she grabs her a tissue.

"Yeah, I know you will."

—

Jess cooks a huge breakfast for Cece and Schmidt the morning of their meeting at the adoption agency, because Cece's been crazily nervous all week. Seriously, how many times can you actually  _throw up_ from being nervous? Because last night was Time Number Eight.

Schmidt's kind of doing his usual panic-y thing too, but that's  _Schmidt_ and no one looks into it too much because it's  _Schmidt_.

Jess and Nick and Winston know as great as adoption is that it's not what Cece and Schmidt ever wanted, because since Day One it's always been about their inevitably beautiful Indian-Jewish babies with Cece's big, caramel eyes and Schmidt's ridiculous bone structure.

"So do you get to bring home the baby today?" Winston asks, and Jess and Nick simultaneously hit him on the arm. "Okay, fine, you don't, but do you at least get to pick out the one you want?"

"They aren't shopping for a new couch, ya' idiot," Nick retorts.

"It's a process," Cece explains in between bites of her turkey bacon. "You... You meet with an agent and they have to evaluate whether or not you'd be suitable parents, so they interview you for like, a really long time, I hear - and Schmidt, honey,  _please_ , the agent can go without you listing all the books you've recently purchased for your Kindle, okay?"

"It's a vast collection, really," Schmidt boasts proudly. "I mean, I've got everything from erotica to an Oprah Winfrey biography, so."

Cece smacks him on the top of the head. "Eat your French toast. It's getting all soggy and I know Jess spent like, two hours perfecting her recipe this morning because this stuff is  _really_ good and it - Well, her French toast used to suck."

"Hey!"

"Sorry babe, it's the truth. Just the  _nastiest_ thing you've ever made. I don't know why, you're so good at cooking everything else." Cece nods assuringly and shoves another forkful into her mouth. "But this batch is really good!"

Nick picks up his own slice on his fork like it's poison and wrinkles his nose. "Are you sure you're allowed to be on drugs and adopt, Cece?" he asks, and Cece shoots him  _a look_. "No, because this French toast is  _awful_ , Jessica, just... You should've let Winston make his crêpes, is all I'm saying."

"Y'all never let me do _anything_!"

"Is it really that bad?" Jess asks with a pout, and everyone sans Cece nods.

"Well I think it's good, honey," Cece reassures her, taking another bite. "I mean, I'm probably ruling out any bad taste because of how like, ridiculously hungry I am, but."

Nick shares a look with Jess, and then she looks to Winston, and then Winston to Schmidt.

"So who's gonna tell her?" Winston whispers, and Jess and Nick whisper, "Not it!", hands on their noses and all, back.

—

Schmidt slides Cece's jacket over her shoulders after a round of hugs and kisses and ' _Go get that baby!_ 's from their friends.

He stops her before she can press the button for the elevator, though, tugging her back by the wrist. "Ceec."

"What, Schmidt? If you're about to summarize last week's episode of  _Game of Thrones_  for me, it can wait. Seriously. I don't even like that show and we're going to be late."

"Cece."

"Schmidt, no, I love you but we have a very important meeting in about..." She pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and squints at the time, and then widens her eyes. "Ten minutes. Oh my God. Ten minutes!"

"What time does that drug store down the street close?" he asks, and Cece impatiently slaps at his arm, Schmidt still holding her back from pressing the 'down' button.

"You know what? I'll ask Nick. He's always down there buying that disgusting beef jerky crap. I keep telling him, ' _Seven pounds to go and you could do it if you'd stop eating pig parts six times a week_ ', but he doesn't listen and he's  _definitely_ going to die -"

"Schmidt, what the hell are you doing?" Cece asks in frustration, biting the inside of her cheek. "Look, I know it's scary, but I thought we were okay with this. Now let's go, we're gonna be late."

"Um, you stay here," he says, thinking quickly as he lets go of her arm, pressing the button to the elevator himself and hopping in before she can run after him.

"SCHMIDT! WHAT THE HELL? I HATE YOU!"

"You'll thank me later, Cecelia," he says with a manic laugh as the doors close on her.

—

"... So he just pressed the 'Close Door' button like an  _idiot_ and left me standing there by myself. Also like an idiot. Because we missed our meeting."

"Nick, here's that stupid beef jerky thing you disgustingly devour," Schmidt starts as he opens the door to Apartment 4D with a paper bag in his arms, digging in and throwing the plastic-wrapped package at a very accepting Nick. "Winston, Jess, I... Well, I got you two nothing, I'm sorry."

Winston frowns and Jess pretends she's sad, throwing a pout in Schmidt's direction.

"You know I have love for you, dawg. You too, Jess. Sometimes."

Cece's sitting cross-legged on the couch, her arms folded underneath her chest and her eyes to the floor, clearly refusing to acknowledge her husband's existence after he sabotaged any chance they'd have at getting a baby by weirdly skipping out on their meeting and running into the elevator like a  _lunatic_.

"And Cecelia..." He pauses, holding the paper bag upside down and emptying it out onto the coffee table. "Three pregnancy tests for you."

She lifts her head at his words and narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

The rest of their friends catch on to what he's doing, and Jess thinks it's a much better plan than making a cake that says: 'YOU'RE PREGNANT, DUH!' on it. (It would've been nice, regardless. She makes a mean festive cake. It just would've taken too long.)

"What you do is you go to the bathroom, and then you sort of... You squat, and you - you try not to miss the stick when you pee, and -"

"Thanks Winston, I know what to do, but I just..."

Schmidt takes one of Cece's hands in his and gives it a squeeze. "You throw up all the time. Like, all the time. More than the night you tried to outdrink Nick on his own bar crawl. Valentine's Day 2015, remember?"

"I remember," she laughs, wrinkling her nose. She forgets she's mad at Schmidt for a second and inches into him, smooching his top lip. "But I'm not pregnant."

"Ceec," Jess intrudes, shaking her head and taking Cece's free hand in hers. "When's the last time you had your period?" she questions, and then she laughs when Cece has to squint to remember - she can't. "You're hungry like, all the time. You thought my French toast was good. It's poison! - Sorry, guys. You're moody, because Schmidt told me you cried last week when he accidentally taped over an episode of  _The Biggest Loser_. You don't even watch  _The Biggest Loser_ , Schmidt does!"

"Oh my God."

Schmidt smiles at Jess's words, and then nods toward the bathroom, then at his wife. "You're pregnant, Cece, but go pee on those sticks for the hell of it anyway."

"Don't forget to squat!"

"Got it, Winston."

—

Nick sets up a table for all of them on the roof, and Winston makes a banner that says: 'Congrats! You're Pregnant!' with assorted markers, and he spells the word 'pregnant' like 'P-R-E-G-A-N-A-N-T' but everyone still likes it anyway. 

Jess makes mimosas for them all but this time doesn't even think about letting Cece near liquor because the Sadie confirmed that she's eight weeks along and that there's an actual, live, human baby in there that's half-Cece and half-Schmidt and completely everything they've ever wanted.

"So now that you're pregnant are you finally gonna stop doing it in our apartment?" Nick asks, clinking his glass onto Schmidt's. "You moved out a year ago, you animals!" 

"We've never done it in your apartment," Cece defends, but Schmidt just shakes his head. "Fine, we did it in the living room a month ago when we thought you were all working."

"But alas, Winnie The Bish was not," Winston says, cringing. 

"Yeah, sorry," Cece and Schmidt both say. 

"To Cece and Schmidt and the inevitably beautiful child you two created!" Jess says among the chaos, raising her glass.

"Have all the babies!" Nick chants.

"Uncle Winston gonna have a whole damn Brady Bunch to babysit!"

"No way Winston, I'm not doing this again," Cece says, noting how nausea has never been a fun thing and she kind of wants to rip her own stomach out right now.

"Yeah, well, you're doin' it now, so, it's pretty great," says Nick. 

"Yeah, it is," Schmidt agrees, leaning in and smooching Cece on the mouth.

Jess smiles and reaches over to envelope Cece and Schmidt in a hug, and then says, "And hey, Winston, that's not how you spell pregnant..."

"DAMN IT!"

—

Cece's water breaks during a movie night at Jess and Nick and Winston's place and Schmidt's freaking out about how hard it'll be to get all of that amniotic fluid off of the couch - ( _Italian leather, you guys! Absolutely irreplaceable!)_ - but Nick grabs the keys and piles everyone into his car and Jess and Winston hold Cece's hand as she cries through contractions and Schmidt would've done it but he's really worried about whether or not amniotic fluid leaves a stain, okay?

"YOU HELPED MAKE HALF OF THIS CHILD SO YOU'RE GOING TO SHUT THE HELL UP ABOUT LITERAL WATER GETTING ON A COUCH AND HOLD MY HAND, OKAY?"

"It's such a nice couch, Cecelia!"

"SCHMIDT, DON'T MAKE ME USE YOUR FIRST NAME! AND YOU CAN SAY I DON'T KNOW IT ALL YOU WANT BUT I'M YOUR WIFE, WE HAVE A MARRIAGE LICENSE, IT'S ON THERE!"

—

Cece's in labor for twenty-one hours.  _Hours_.

Schmidt has a permanent bruise on his hand where his wedding band is and his eyes are stinging from the amount of time he's, cried. (Cece squeezed his hands really hard, okay?) Jess and Nick and Winston don't leave the hospital even though Schmidt insists they should because, "You all need a shower - especially you, Nicholas! Is that mustard on your sweatshirt? - Wait, how dare you? You wore a  _sweatshirt_ for the birth of my child? Dis- _gusting_!"

The contractions hurt like a bitch, and Cece curses more than Schmidt ever knew she  _could_ curse, but twenty-one hours later Schmidt watches an actual human being exit his wife's body and it's like. It's insane. His head is spinning but he can't be one of those dads who faint, he can't. Nick and Winston will make fun of him for the rest of his life, and no,  _they're_ supposed to be the Dads Who Faint in twenty years when they finally become desirable to women, not  _him_.

He doesn't faint. "Congratulations! It's a girl!" They knew she was a girl because duh, Schmidt insisted that they have a Gender Reveal Party way back when they found out. It gave him an excuse to make a cake with pink filling and prove all of his friends who said it was a boy wrong - _take that, Nick_! -, but it still feels surreal when the nurse says it and he still cries when they let him cut the umbilical cord. 

They wipe the baby off and then let Cece hold her and Cece doesn't full on cry like he is - he's always been the crier - but there are tears in her eyes too and he can't help but like, sob when he watches his wife pepper kisses onto this tiny little being's forehead. 

They name her Lily because Schmidt's always liked the name Lily and Jess thinks the name is 'Just _adorable_ ' and it's not Indian and it's not Jewish and... Okay. Lily Schmidt. It could be worse. 

Jess and Nick and Winston go home and shower and Schmidt makes Nick sanitize his hands like, thirteen times before he's allowed to hold Lily, but everyone does and she's so beautiful and she's already the background on everybody's phones and they're all in love with her.

Schmidt's never loved anything more, and he loves Cece so much he can't even stand it. He knows Cece's ridiculously in love with her too because when the nurse tells them to stick her in the bassinet she cries and says she doesn't want to, that she'll hold her for the whole night, she doesn't care.

—

Cece and Schmidt and their baby is just... It works. He can't believe he didn't want to be tied down to someone; to two someones. She can't believe she 'didn't care' whether or not she became a mother. 

Two years later she's pregnant again and it's a boy and Jess and Nick are having a boy, too - yeah, _that_ happened -, so their kids basically have guaranteed playdates for life and everything works and no one even remembers a day when Cece worried about not having any eggs left.


End file.
